


That's Too Far

by fluffywingsandhalos



Series: So, how does this work exactly? [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotionally Hurt Dean Winchester, Fluff and Angst, Human Castiel (Supernatural), John Winchester A+ parenting, M/M, Mild Homophobic Language, POV Dean Winchester, Post-Episode AU: s15e19 Inherit the Earth, Post-Finale, Supportive Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:01:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29755860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffywingsandhalos/pseuds/fluffywingsandhalos
Summary: “You just assume that you can’t – that I don’t want –“He can’t say it, so he looks up at Cas’ eyes, glances down at his lips – but that’s not allowed so he looks away.“I don’t understand.”But it’s all very clear, isn’t it? It’s right there after all, right there.He looks up again, at the space between them, at Cas who always seems so far, like right now when he’s giving him space – still, after everything, making sure to give Dean space – and he thinksthat’s too far.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Series: So, how does this work exactly? [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2168202
Comments: 10
Kudos: 87





	That's Too Far

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta'd, non-native speaker (I'm happy to correct mistakes if you point them out to me)
> 
> Set after they defeat Chuck and Jack brings everyone back (we all remember that scene, am I right?)
> 
> Can be read as stand-alone or together as series

Cas is on the other side of the kitchen isle. It’s all very far, it’s all very safe.

“Dean.”

He grips the counter because Sam left for his room after dinner and if he turns around he might have to watch Cas leave again.

“Not now, Cas.”

Just one day, that’s all he asks for; one day with his family. And really that’s not a lot to ask for after everything Dean’s been through, after everything he sacrificed. But he hears footsteps rounding the kitchen isle, diminishing the safe space between them.

“Dean, please. I want to explain …”

“Nothing to explain.” Because there isn’t, it’s all very clear.

“Then why can’t you look at me?”

He shuts his eyes, sets his jaw.

“Dean, what I said, I – I never expected anything from you.”

And that’s too much.

“No, because you thought you’d be _dead_. You just left. You left me alone, dealing with – with …” He grips the counter tighter. “You can’t do that, Cas. It’s not fair.”

Silence. Then, “I don’t regret what I did, Dean. I did what I had to to safe you.”

He scoffs.

More footsteps, getting closer, shuffling, a deep breath. “Dean, I know I can’t have what I – what I want.”

There it is again and _how do you know?_ but Dean keeps his jaw set because if he says something wrong Cas might leave again.

“But Dean. I found my peace with that, a long time ago. I never expected anything to change.”

“Bullshit.”

He said the wrong thing again and he can feel Cas tense next to him and he feels him pulling away again, always pulling away, like on that day when someone was banging on the door, and why does he get the feeling that what’s about to follow will sound like a goodbye.

“I’m clearly making you uncomfortable … I think it’s better if I leave.”

_Because it is, it is._

But it can’t be, not again, please don’t leave, _why would you leave me?_

Dean just got him back and this time he won’t just stand there, useless and unable to stop him, to say anything, because _how do you know, how do you know?_ and he needs to tell him that because _he can’t leave._

“You keep saying that”, and that’s not what he was supposed to say at all.

Cas stills. “What?”

He shakes his head. “You keep saying that. You just – you assume what I –“, he stops, presses a fist to his mouth. But he needs to say something before Cas can leave again, because he _can’t leave, not again, not again_ , not before he knows, because _how do you know?_ “You just assume that you can’t – that I don’t want –“

He can’t say it, so he looks up at Cas’ eyes, glances down at his lips – but that’s not allowed so he looks away.

“I don’t understand.”

But it’s all very clear, isn’t it? It’s right there after all, right there.

“I – shit, Cas – how do you fucking know?” There it is.

There is silence and he knows Cas would let him do anything with this. He could say _whatever_ and never speak of it again and Cas would be hurt, would need space, but he would forgive him eventually, would still be there when he needs him, by his side but always out of reach.

But he doesn’t want that anymore and it’s all going to hell anyway, so he grips the counter and he waits.

“Dean …” When Cas speaks up again it’s quiet, careful, “What are you saying?”

_But it’s clear, isn’t it? It’s clear; it’s right there, it was always right there, but it’s dangerous and it’s not allowed._

Because Cas is off-limits, always off limits, right there and close enough to touch but always out of reach because Dean held him there, because Dean made sure he’s not getting too close, and he’s sick of it, because it’s _right there, he just needs to reach for it._

He looks up again, at the space between them, at Cas who always seems so far, like right now when he’s giving him space – still, after everything, making sure to give Dean space – and he thinks _that’s too far_.

And he wonders what would happen if he were to just reach out and pull Cas in and kiss him on the lips, so he shakes his head, and he runs his hand over his mouth and he says, “Fuck it”, and just does it.

And, really, it’s Cas fault that he’s gripping Dean’s shirt out of surprise while Dean is holding his head in his hands and pressing their lips together because _he_ started it after all, _he_ crossed the line, not Dean.

And _it’s off limits_ _and it’s not allowed_ but for once he doesn’t care, and he thinks Cas should have fucked up years ago because his lips are warm and softer than he thought and his heart is racing and he shouldn’t be liking this but _fuck_ he does.

When he pulls away Cas’ hands are still gripping his shirt and they are so close they are still breathing each other’s air and his heart is racing so fast in his chest it should topple over.

But it doesn’t because Cas is holding him there, in place, close to his chest as if that’s where he belongs, _right there, right here_.

“Fuck”, he breathes. “I mean –“, because that’s not what he meant to say,” – wow. That was … yeah.” But that doesn’t cut it, that doesn’t cut it at all.

Cas doesn’t say anything, just looks at him with wide searching eyes, and for a moment Dean thinks he’s back in the dungeon and there’s someone banging at the door and Cas is pulling away again, and he’s leaving, always leaving, always leaving him, _because it is, it is_ – but Cas isn’t pulling away this time, isn’t letting him go, instead he drops his gaze and then he leans in.

Cas hovers over his lips for a moment as if asking for permission – _so close, when did Cas get so close? –_ waiting for Dean to close the distance. But he doesn’t dare move, not until he feels warm lips brush over his, ever so gently, testing, asking if this is okay.

And Dean tells himself it’s okay, kissing boys, but he shuts his eyes tightly just in case, _just in case_ _it’s not,_ and kisses back.

He’s kissing his best friend, _kissing Cas_ , in his kitchen and his palms graze over the stubble on Cas’ cheek and that should be weird, that should feel wrong, but it’s really not.

It’s gentle and sweet and _he’s kissing Cas, so close, so close_ – and for once he lets himself have this, something nice, something good.

When they break apart – not too far, just a little – he doesn’t think about what that means or that _he just_ _kissed Cas he kissed Cas and it was nice_ and focuses on Cas’ eyes instead.

There’s something he needs to say.

“Don’t …” He swallows, tries again, “Please don’t leave again.”

And that’s not really what he needed to say but it’s close enough.

Cas lifts a hand to his cheek and opens his mouth, about to say something – but then there’s a banging door and naked feet on tiles tapping down the hall.

He pulls away just in time before Sam enters the kitchen.

Dean turns his back on them, acting as if he were cleaning the dishes all along instead of kissing his best friend in their kitchen because that would just be absurd, right?

But Cas hasn’t moved, and he can still feel his eyes on him.

“Hey …”

He can basically _hear_ Sam’s frown.

He glances up and yep: frown. He looks back at the dishes.

Someone should answer him before he suspects they were doing something that’s not allowed, something like _his brother kissing his best friend in their kitchen_.

“Uhm … should I come back later?”

Shit.

Cas’ gaze is burning through his skull.

They should say something.

“No. Of course not, Sam.” Cas voice is calm, collected, but there’s something in it he doesn’t like. Sam probably doesn’t notice it, but Dean does. “I was just going to bed anyway.”

Why is he always doing the wrong thing, why is he always making Cas leave? He doesn’t want him to leave; he wants him to stay.

He should tell him that.

“Goodnight, Sam.”

“Night.”

“Dean.”

He doesn’t. He nods in response.

There is a short moment of silence – Cas is giving him a last chance to turn around, to say something – before Cas’ steps vanish into the hallway.

Now that Cas isn’t holding him anymore, he feels wobbly.

He scrubs the dishes.

“What’s up with you two?”

He scrubs harder. “Waddaya mean?”

“Come on, Dean. You could barely look at the guys since he’s back.”

Dean knows Sam’s eyebrows are raised in a frown, he can feel it.

He stops scrubbing, turns around. “Look, it’s nothing, okay? Guy’s just … weird ‘s all.” He gestures in the air, because Cas _is_ weird, isn’t he?

Sam isn’t taking any shit, though. Instead he frowns at him intensely as if examining something, “You’re fighting again, aren’t you?”

“No”, he’s too quick to answer.

And great, now Sam is in a rage. “What the hell, Dean? He just got back, I thought that’s what you wanted.“

“It is.”

“Then what –“

“We _were_ , okay? But then we –“ _, kissed in our kitchen and it was nice –_ No, that’s not allowed. He looks away.

“Then what?” But Dean doesn’t respond so he prompts, “Made up?”

Close enough. “Something like that.”

Sam keeps frowning.

“We … we just –“

The frown deepens.

“We …” Dean squirms, runs a hand over his mouth. “Jeez, Sam, you want me to spell it out for ya?”

“What the hell are you …”, he trails off. “Wait.”

_Shit._

Dean turns around, eyes on the dishes again.

That kid knows him too well.

“Did you … did you just …? No fucking way.”

_He knows they kissed they kissed they kissed and it was nice he kissed his best friend and that’s not –_

“What if …” He clears his throat. Careful, careful, “What if we did?”

A scoff. “Finally.”

“What?” He turns back around because _what?_

Sam’s lips twitch up in that typical smug Sam-smile. “So? How was it?”

“It … I – What?”, he splutters.

“Well, it’s Cas.”, he says as if that explains anything. “He was always in love with you.”

Dean pushes his choice of words aside, bites his lip, “You – you knew about that?”

Sam shrugs. “It was kinda obvious.”

Dean huffs, looks on the ground.

He continues, a little bit more careful, “I just wasn’t sure if you were … you know.”

“I’m not.”

Sam pulls his eyebrows up in that fool-yourself-face. “Right.” Before Dean can object him again, he keeps going, “Look, whatever you do – just remember that it’s over. You’re allowed to have nice things now.”

Sam is right.

Chuck is gone. Dean is free.

_He’s allowed to have nice things._

So after he cleaned the dishes and said goodnight to Sam, he walks down the hallway and stops before Cas’ room.

He doesn’t need to comply to rules someone else imposed on him. He doesn’t owe anything to anyone anymore.

He knocks.

For the first time in his life Dean’s life is his own, purely his own.

He runs his hand over his neck and face.

There’s something he needs to say and something he needs to do because Chuck is gone and it’s just them now and they are free, for the first time – finally free.

The door opens and Cas looks surprised, frowns, opens his mouth; probably to ask Dean what he’s doing here, why he pulled away earlier, what the hell it is he wants from him, but Dean doesn’t let him talk – half because Cas might say _I changed my mind, I don’t want you after all_ ; half because actions are just so much easier than words – and instead grabs him by the shirt and pulls him in, chocking his words off by kissing him again, _kissing Cas_ , because apparently Dean is allowed to do this now and there is nothing holding Dean back because he’s free, finally free, and he wants this. There is a low noise of surprise in the back of Cas throat and that does things to Dean, so he opens Cas’ mouth and deepens the kiss. And they are so close, _so close,_ but it’s not enough.

He guides them back in Cas’ room, never breaking the kiss, and shoves the door closed behind them.

And Dean feels the scruff under his lips but it’s nice and it’s not enough. He’s addicted to the way Cas opens his mouth and to his hands on his waist and to the way he presses closer, following Dean’s lead. He’s breathless already, but it’s not enough, not enough, and suddenly his hands are undoing Cas’ shirt and his chest is flat but it’s nice and he needs to get _closer, closer_. And he’s biting Cas’ lip and he’s fumbling with the button on Cas’ trousers and _no, that’s not allowed_ and _boys don’t do that_ and _don’t ever do that again_ and he’s a teenager again and someone’s opening the door of his car and ri –

“Dean.”

He broke the kiss. Is staring at his hands.

When he doesn’t react, Cas moves them away gently.

“Sorry”, he hears himself say.

He’s distantly aware of Cas shaking his head. “You have nothing to apologise for.”

Cas is speaking but Dean doesn’t hear him because he’s sixteen and he’s in his car and _don’t ever do that again._

His chin is being lifted and that brings him back to reality.

He focuses in on Cas’ eyes. They’re blue.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want –“

“No. No I do, I just –“

Just what? That happened over twenty years ago. He shouldn’t feel obliged to rules someone imposed on him when he was a teenager, someone who’s dead anyway, someone who had no right in the first place.

This doesn’t happen to him. Dean Winchester doesn’t freeze. But Dean Winchester also doesn’t swing that way, so – he guesses that logic is flawed.

Cas takes his hands and leads him over to the bed. Somehow they end up lying down on the bed with a good foot of space between them. It feels terribly far.

This wasn’t supposed to happen, he’s supposed to be free, he’s supposed to have nice things.

Sam said it’s okay. Sam said it’s allowed.

So what the fuck is his problem?

For a while they just lie there in silence, staring at the ceiling.

When Cas speaks up it’s quiet but steady, “Dean, your father … he’s proud of you.”

Ah. There it is.

Dean bites the inside of his cheek.

Because that can’t be right.

“How do you know?”

“He’s in heaven. There’s no hate, no anger, no fear.” He pauses, turns his head to look at Dean. “He can’t see you, not in the way you think, but – in his own way … he loves you.”

Dean doesn’t say anything for a moment, then, “Doesn’t change what he did.”

He feels Cas’ eyes on him, but he doesn’t turn his head.

“No. It doesn’t.”

In the following silence a hand reaches for his and he lets Cas take it. It’s warm, it’s nice. He’s allowed to have nice things.

For a long time neither of them speaks. Dean just listens to Cas’ steady breathing because he’s right there and he’s not going anywhere.

But there’s still something he needs to say, something he needs Cas to know and why are these words so hard, he’s used them before after all. But they were different back then. Since Cas used them, they’ve changed. 

He bites his lip.

_Right there, right there._

“Why me?” And that sounds pathetic, and it’s still not what he needs to say.

Cas turns his head again. “I told you.”

“But –“ _that doesn’t make sense._ “I’m a mess.”

“Maybe.” A pause. “But you’re still beautiful.”

He closes his eyes and grips Cas’ hands tighter – and he’s right there and he’s not leaving – and he hopes he understands. He does, he knows he does. Cas always understands.

**Author's Note:**

> Still beautiful, still Dean Winchester.
> 
> Do let me know what you think, your feedback means a lot!


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